


Mizpah

by Baroness_Blixen



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance, Season 9, separated for christmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:42:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21884692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baroness_Blixen/pseuds/Baroness_Blixen
Summary: Scully is prepared to spend Christmas without Mulder when she gets an unexpected message and a present she didn't know she wanted.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 36
Kudos: 108
Collections: X-Files Secret Santa Fanfic Exchange (2019)





	Mizpah

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gillyAnne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gillyAnne/gifts).



> My prompt for Fleur (gillyAnne) was for Mulder and Scully to spend a Christmas apart for whatever reason. I tried to make them more mature, but my heart was set on season 9 Mulder and Scully. I hope you like it anyway :)
> 
> A huge thank you to @admiralty for the quick beta!

Against all hope, and odds, Scully checks her emails daily, hoping to hear from Mulder in the aftermath of his thwarted return. It's been weeks. Long weeks in which she distracted herself with caring for William, with going to work, with helping Doggett and Reyes on the X-Files. Most of the time, the pain is bearable. It's become a part of her. But sometimes, late at night, when the fish tank bubbles, reminding her of nights in Mulder's apartment, or when William, sleepy and sated, smiles up at her with his father's eyes and mouth, she wonders how long she can go on like this.

December brings the weary joyfulness that's associated with Christmas. Everywhere she goes, decorations spring up, a seasonal reminder of how long Mulder has already been gone, how long she and William have been alone. She tries to take it all in for William and make it special for him. She puts up her Christmas decorations in their apartment, cheesy Christmas music playing in the background, while the baby watches and marvels. His cheeks round and red, he grins when she sings along to the festive songs. He babbles, too, trying to sing himself. These are the moments she lives for. They are what make it bearable.

She didn't think she'd miss Mulder like this. With all of her. It's as if he's just taken a part of her with him when he left. Sometimes she looks at William and she knows he doesn't remember Mulder. How could he? His father was only around for two days, 48 hours. She speaks of Mulder often, talks to William about all the crazy things his father has done, how much he misses them. How one day, they will all be together again. It's a promise she makes to William. To herself, too. One she can't be sure she'll keep.

The cheerful decorations do nothing to quench her sadness. Instead, they heighten it. Christmas, to her, is a time of loss. When everyone speaks of love, of coming together, all she can do is think about all the people she's already lost. Melissa. Ahab. Emily. Mulder. 

Last year, she was without Mulder, too. She was just starting to show, William constantly trying to make his presence known. She hadn’t wanted to celebrate Christmas at all, not without Mulder. Her mother made her fly to San Diego where memories of Emily clung to her uncomfortably, making the holidays nearly insufferable. A month later, they’d found Mulder dead. 

The Christmases of her childhood, when excitement kept her up half the night, are long gone. There's William to think of now. She wants him to have the same carefree memories she used to have.

It's early morning, Christmas Eve. Scully doesn't have much time today, needs to get ready to go to her mother's. But it's her ritual. Maybe today is the day that she'll hear from Mulder. The bell over the door rings as she and William step foot in the café. The Lone Gunmen have assured her that she could check her emails from home, but she's not taking any chances. This is what she and Mulder decided upon, so this is what she's going to do. William is asleep in his stroller, his bottom lip pushed forward in a sleepy pout. He's been fussy most of the night, which is not like him at all. Scully feels guilty; what if he's sensing her own sadness, her mad desperation to hear from Mulder? She looks at him, her heart constricting with fierce love. One more time, she promises herself and her son. Before she came here, she decided that this would be the last time. After today, she won't log into this account anymore. It has to end some day.

In between the spam, there it is. Mulder's email address. Her hand is shaking as she clicks on the mail.

 _'I've been thinking a lot lately,'_ she reads. _'How are my fish? I left some fish food in the kitchen, but I didn't know where to put it so it's in one of the higher cabinets._

_Sorry.’_

The email leaves her baffled and disappointed. Did someone hack into his account and write this? But then why mention his fish? All this time she's hoped to hear from him and this is what she gets? She quickly checks on William, who is still asleep. She logs out of her account and turns off the computer. There is a hidden message here, she is certain of it. She needs to go home and find out what Mulder is talking about.

*

Scully is grateful that William doesn't wake up on the short way home. She leaves him in his stroller, makes certain he's comfortable before she rushes into the kitchen. She opens every cabinet, some of the doors falling shut loudly as she moves on. Fish food, she thinks. Why fish food? She has not once forgotten to feed his fish. He said he put it higher, she reminds herself. Damn him and his tall figure. Scully gets the small ladder he made fun of once. She wanted to be furious with him but his laugh, so young, so boyish, made her giggle too. So much in fact that she almost fell off. Mulder was there, held her steady. The memory stings as she gets up on the ladder, knowing that this time there won't be anyone to catch her.

She has to do this on her own. And Mulder knew she could.

The small container of fish food is in first cabinet, right next to her fancy plates. She stares at it. The expiration date was her birthday three years ago. Curious, Scully opens it and gasps when she sees four envelopes stuck in there. She gets them out, her hands trembling. They're labeled one, two, three and 'this one first'. She takes them with her to the living room where William is slumbering on.

Before she opens the first envelope, she takes a deep breath. Up until his email, Mulder has never mentioned these letters. How long have they been up there? She wants to be mad that she had something of him here without even knowing. Every morning when she walked into the kitchen, the letters were up there, waiting for her.

No more waiting. She tears open the envelope and starts reading.

_Dear Dana,_

_Merry Christmas! In case you find this before December, please don't question my sanity. Why am I writing you a letter? Because Scully, I have so many things to say and I don't know how. Or when. You just fell asleep and who can blame you? Not me, that's for sure. Our son is sated and happy, sleeping in his crib right next to you. I want to watch the both of you sleeping for all eternity. I thought we had time. I thought we could be a family now; you, me and our son. I will never get tired of saying, or writing, that. Our son. He is the most beautiful baby I've ever seen. I know you agree with me. I know I joked about him looking like Skinner, but Scully, this kid is all you._

_I wish I could see him grow up. I miss him already. He's asleep and I miss him. I'd ask you if that was normal but again, I don't want to wake you. I've known him a day and yet it feels like he's been here forever. In my heart, he must have been. But I don't want to get too sappy (too late, I know). Let's get back to the reason that I'm writing you this letter. Christmas. It's only May now but in light of what you've told me and what you've asked me to do, we both know that I won't be here to celebrate with you. For once, this is no scheme of mine to get out of Christmas. The only reason I'm leaving is because it's safer for you, and for William. I will never put your safety at risk, Scully. I love you. I hate that this sentiment is buried in between all of these words that also mean a lot, but not as much as my love for you and our son._

_Since I won't be here and since I don't know what my situation will be six months from now – I'm thinking of all the things William will be able to do by then. He'll be sitting up and babbling. He'll have more hair then, won't he? I wish I could see it. No, I don't want to see it. I want to be here, experience it with you. This is my Christmas gift to you, Scully. These letters are probably not at the top of your Christmas list, but it's all I can give you._

_I wish I could write you a hundred letters. There's not enough time to tell you all the things that I should. So there will only be three, aside from this one. You and William are just so damn distracting. The time I meant to write, I watched you instead. This first letter for you is the last that I write. The sun is peeking through the blinds already. It's still half asleep, like you and William. He is beginning to fuss and soon, the day will begin. As soon as it does, I won't have much time left. I want to spend every remaining second with the two of you. I want to hold you and kiss you, memorize your face, and William's._

_When I was a child, we visited my Grandma Mulder a lot. She was a warm person, someone who made Samantha and me cookies and who would hug us so tightly that we could barely breathe. She died when I was seven or eight. I was always reluctant to leave her place, because her house felt like home. She would sit me down in her lap and tell me this story over and over again to make me feel better. It's the story of the mizpah. My grandmother had a small pendant around her neck and she touched it whenever she spoke to me about it. You probably know the story about Jacob and Laban better than I do. I'm pretty sure my grandmother made up a few things anyway. There was no one else when Jacob and Laban built their stony watchtower that would separate them from each other, except God. "The Lord watch between me and thee, when we are absent one from another." I want to believe, Scully. My grandmother said that the mizpah signifies an emotional bond between people who are separated, whether it be by distance, circumstances or death. No matter where I am, Scully, or where you are, my thoughts are always with you, as are my soul and my heart. Our bond remains, no matter how great the physical distance between us. Until we see each other again, know that I'm always with you._

_Love,_

_Mulder_

Tears fall freely from her eyes and right onto Mulder's words. She wipes them away, doesn't want Mulder's words to disappear. She holds the piece of paper tightly in her hands and follows a few letters with the tip of her finger. To see his own words, in his own handwriting, makes her miss him even more. The longing to see him, to touch him is overwhelming.

"Thank you, Mulder," she whispers, sniffling. She puts the letter aside, looks at the smaller pieces of paper that still wait for her. Mulder has scribbled small numbers on them and she arranges them all, from one to three. "Merry Christmas," she mumbles and reaches for the first one.

_On this first day of Christmas… no, let's cut that crap. I hope you're not reading this out loud to William. If you do, please change crap to a word you consider appropriate. Speaking of our son, if I was with you guys, I'd buy him a tiny Knicks shirt. He'd look so cute in it. Truth is, I already bought him one but I got the size wrong so I'm taking it with me. As a reminder. But if you're short one gift, you should get him one (I know you kept mine, so the two of you can match)._

Scully laughs, again wiping away tears. Great minds, she thinks. One of the first gifts she got William was a Knicks t-shirt. Two sizes too big. He will look cute in the oversized garment and everyone will laugh and smile, take pictures. That's not the reason why she bought it. The hope she clings to is that Mulder gets to come home before William grows out of it. Needing more, she opens letter number two and starts reading.

_One of the worst things, for me, is knowing I'm not there for you during this time. Christmas can be so stressful. Especially if Bill is giving you a hard time. Please kick his ass for me if he's being an idiot. We both know you're stronger than me anyway. What I want you to do is take a night off once William is asleep (I hope he's being a good baby and has inherited your sleeping patterns) and take a long, hot bath. Think of me maybe, in case your mind starts wandering. I will be thinking of you every night and maybe our minds will meet midway. I hope so._

"Oh Mulder," she says, half laughing, half crying. Like she did with the other two, she straightens the paper and puts it next to her. She will be rereading them again and again, until she knows them by heart. But there is one left. She stares at it, at number three. As much as she wants to read it right away, she hesitates. This is the last one. If Mulder were here, he'd urge her to just open it and read it. He's never been patient. While she is still debating what to do, William wakes up. She hears him fuss and watches him open his eyes, blink, and try to make sense of where he is. His eyes land on hers and he smiles.

"Hi, Baby," she says, the letter forgotten for the moment. William kicks his feet and makes it known that he wants to be picked up. "I'm here, I'm here," Scully promises and takes him into her arms. He's still sleepy and warm, leaning against her. She strokes his head and smoothes a stubborn lock of hair. William gurgles and starts rooting around. "Time to eat, hm? Come on, then." She glances at the unopened letter on her table and sighs. This one will have to wait.

*

In between taking care of William and putting the finishing touches on all the Christmas presents for her family, Scully doesn't find a quiet minute to read Mulder's last letter. She packs it alongside the ones she already read, planning to read it tonight as soon as William is asleep. Throwing caution aside, she pens a quick email to him, using the same strange code he's been using in his:

_the fish are fed. I think they consider that special treat a Christmas present, but they miss you so much. Wherever you are, have a safe Christmas. There are people (and fish) who love you very much._

_Love, Dana_

Her plan to have a quiet night at her mother's before the Christmas frenzy tomorrow morning falls through as soon as she arrives. For once, everyone is there. Bill, Tara and their son, Matthew, as well as Charlie, his wife and their three children greet her and William before she's even through the door. Scully finds herself smiling genuinely for the first time in what feels like months. Even Bill hugs her tightly, saying how happy he is that she's here.

"So this is our nephew, huh," Charlie says and both he and Bill look at the small boy with huge grins. William gurgles, smiles back and reaches for Bill's tie.

"This is William," Scully explains unnecessarily. This is her family and there's no reason for her to be so nervous. She wishes Mulder were here with her. The small of her back tingles with his phantom touch. Like he said, he may not be here with her, but he's there in spirit.

"He's cute, Dana," Charlie says. "Where did he get that nose, though? Poor kid." But he's grinning. Her little brother knows exactly where William got his nose from. And his pouty lips.

"He's not coming back, is he?" Bill asks her, his voice stoic, his eyes cool.

"Bill, he's-"

"Yeah, mom explained it to me. Or tried to. Look, it's Christmas and I don't want to make this harder for you or the baby than it already is. I won't mention it again." Scully nods at her big brother, silently thanking him. She watches him stroke William's head and walk off.

"Don't mind your Uncle Bill, Will," Charlie address the baby, "he can be one grumpy Grinch." The two siblings giggle, like they've done so often when they were kids. Scully hugs him, needing to convince herself that he at least is really here.

"I missed you, Charlie."

"Missed you too, sis. It's too bad I don't get to meet Mulder this Christmas. Maybe next year, huh?" Her brother looks at her with so much well-meaning hope that tears shoot into her eyes. He and Mulder would like each other. Will like each other, she corrects herself mentally. She nods, carefully optimistic. Maybe next year.

Her own life is so quiet, consists mostly of William and herself that she has forgotten what big family life feels like. She helps her mother and Tara in the kitchen while Charlie's wife Annabel, Charlie and Bill entertain the youngsters. It's loud. So loud that her ears are ringing. Yet, she constantly finds herself smiling, her heart light for once.

"How are you, Dana?" Tara asks while they're doing the dishes. "How are you really? It must be so hard taking care of the baby all by yourself. You're working, too, aren't you?"

Scully nods, drying another plate and setting it aside. "I don't know what I'd do without mom," she admits. The two women make eye contact and her mother's face softens.

"William is a wonderful baby. He's so curious and always happy," her mother raves.

"But," Tara begins anew, her brows furrowed. It's obvious that she doesn't understand her life at all. Being a single mother is one thing, having a career on top of it is another. There's no husband and no security net under her. And Tara doesn't even know all of it. "Don't you… don't you want a real family, Dana?"

She knows that Tara doesn't mean it like that. She doesn't want to hurt her with her words. That doesn't mean they don't sting.

"It's only temporary," she finds herself saying. It's what's she's been telling herself over and over again, for the last couple of months. Temporary. Only until it's safe for her and Mulder to be together again. She thinks of his letter and feels the burning need to read them again, to lose herself in his words. Her heart beats faster when she realizes that she still has his unopened letter.

"Of course it is," her mother interrupts, squeezing her shoulders. Tara's face turns red with embarrassment. "You and Fox do things your own way."

"Excuse me a moment," Scully says, desperately trying to keep her tears at bay. In the living room she sees William clap and laugh along with his cousins. She watches the scene a moment and lets her tears escape. Her arms are slung around herself, but it's not enough. The emotional bond he talked about, mizpah, is not enough right now. Everything inside her screams out for Mulder. Certain that her family will watch over William, she walks upstairs and into her old room. She sits on her bed and unpacks Mulder's letters. She turns the unopened one around and around before she finally tears it open.

_You will think that he's still too young, but you should tell William about the time we went to the haunted mansion on Christmas Eve. You remember that, don't you? Better leave out some of the details when you tell him. Despite all the things that happened that night, or didn't happen – what happened out there, Scully? Should we have opened an X-File for it? – I remember that night fondly. Do you know why? Because of you. That night, before you showed up at my doorstep, I kept thinking that I wanted to do this every year with you. Not necessarily almost get us killed, but I knew that night that I want to spend all my Christmases with you. I should have told you that night. I should have asked you to marry me. Since that night, we haven't spent a Christmas together. That is my greatest regret. I will do my damndest to end that streak._

Her hands are shaking and her heart beating fast. Mulder wanted to ask her to marry him? They weren't even dating back then. Not that they ever were, not officially.

"Santa is here!" One of the children screams downstairs, jolting her back to the here and now. But her mind is reeling from the letter. This should have been their year. Aren't they due for a little happiness?

"Aunt Dana!" One of Charlie's sons bursts through the door, startling her. His cheeks are almost as red as his hair. "You have to come downstairs, Santa is here! He grins at her, revealing a tooth gap. She doesn't want to disappoint her nephew and she should spend this moment with William. After all, this is his first Christmas, the first time that he meets Santa Claus. She lets go of Mulder's letter and follows the young boy.

"Why is Santa here?" she wonders as they walk down the stairs. "It's only the 24th." But her nephew doesn't listen and doesn't care. He sprints away from her and into the living room where, true to his word, she spots a tall Santa in a bright red suit, surrounded by all the Scully children, including William, who sits on her mother's lap. There is so much awe written on her son's face that she needs a moment to compose herself. She wishes Mulder were here and could see this. See the wonder in his son's eyes.

"Do you have presents for us, Santa?" One of Charlie's kids asks impatiently and the adults laugh.

"Of course I do," Santa says in a deep, overly dramatic voice. A shiver runs down Scully's back. She can't explain it, but she knows that voice. She looks at William, safe in her mother's arms. No one told her that they'd hired a Santa for the children. Her heart beats furiously. Her eyes dart back to William, who is flailing his tiny arms in excitement.

"Let me see what I've got in my bag," Santa continues and as he reaches for the big brown bag, Scully's fear takes over.

"Stop right there." Her hand goes to her hip, but she's not carrying her gun. Why would she be? She's home, at her mother's place, surrounded by love, by people who care for her. How naïve she's been. And she's put all of them in danger, her whole family.

"Dana, what's the matter?" her mother asks, holding William tightly. Matthew starts whimpering and Tara quickly picks him up.

"Who are you?" Scully asks, walking closer. The Santa still has his back to her. "Show us your face."

"He's Santa, Aunt Dana."

"Skeptic as ever, hm? Is that really how you want your nephews and nieces to find out about Santa?" Santa asks quietly, with a good portion of humor in his voice. For just a second, her heart stops. Now she knows why that voice is so familiar, why it sent shivers down her spine. He turns around and the long, white beard and the hair can't fool her. She'd recognize those eyes everywhere. That nose, too.

"Mulder," she sobs quietly.

"Merry Christmas, Scully."


End file.
